The 5th Wheel
by He's-Awesome-and-Eternal
Summary: 5 has always felt left out, ever since they finally made it to the peaceful life without the beasts. He can't shake the feeling that the others only tolerate him, so when he gets hurt one day, he doesn't look for help. AU, no slash. 5 is the only extra.
1. Next Time Never Comes

The 5th Wheel

Steady clangs rang across the property of the miraculously intact house, echoing from the windowsill where 5 worked diligently. He took a deep breath, lifting a stone above his head, before slamming it into the nail with the exhale, driving the nail into the wooden frame of his latest project.

This was his rare project with only his own intentions in mind, searching for a bit of familiarity in their new home by building a new watch tower through the existing opening of a window the second floor up. He already had a sturdy wooden frame and a floor of wire panes that he had gathered from a few of the windows. He had not understood their purpose in the windows, it seemed like the glass should have been a good enough barrier. Regardless, it suited his project well, replacing a large amount of what would have been the valuable wood to make up the surface. As he began work on the simple barrier surrounding the perimeter that was made up of nails he had driven in only part way, he was nearly finished, but far from satisfied.

He had known it would be different from before, there was no helping that. But then again, he could hardly take a constant reminder of what had been lost. He still had nightmares of that day, the day he had nearly died in the claws of the beast. 5 found himself now trailing his fingers over the scar in his side, before forcing himself to wrench them away and think of something else.

5 didn't know how 9 and the others did it. They were always so calm, happy even. 5 wished he were happy. He was sometimes, but not the way the others were. He always seemed to feel different, like the odd one out. When the others would happily go outside to explore, 5 would cringe at the very idea. He used to upon being invited to join, agree to accompany them, but as his sight met the outdoors he'd stop. He wouldn't,_ couldn't_ move, vision blurred with fear. He'd quickly turn away, throwing over his shoulder an excuse of why he couldn't come and a promise to come next time, never fulfilled. Eventually they stopped asking.

He would try to make it up to them, new projects finished for them to come home to. He had recently made a way to reach the high shelves of a bookshelf in the main room that the twins had been eyeing longingly. When they came home to it they had been ecstatic, and many days were spent with the entire group together, reading and talking. He still had his typical nervous troubles with conversing, but he was happy to be in their presence. Unfortunately even this had been short lived, as soon 9 and 7 began their trips outside with 3 and 4 again. They brought him more supplies, which he appreciated, but really in the end what he wanted was them. He needed people.

Before, he had 2. He had been not only his best friend, but he had considered him to be like a father to him. 9 had been his friend, for a time. 9 had been the next choice, the strong fellow of similarly aged mind to 5 himself, and he felt safer in his presence. But it seemed ever since the end of the machines 9 was more like his older brother. He loved him as one naturally did for a family member, but truly only tolerated his presence. 9 did have 7 after all, so it was hardly plausible for 5 to come out on the good end of the deal.

Really, it was that way with all of them. The others would be conversing (or just playing around in the twins case) together when he would butt in with a quick comment, to which they'd glance to him and flash a short grin (he was sure it wasn't sincere) before reclaiming the reins, leaving him behind.

He was the tolerated one, the fifth wheel that only served to slow them down. He tried his hardest, but in the end he buried himself in his work so as not to show that it hurt him.

Before they crossed the bridge 6 had given him strange looks since the day he had escaped the claws of the beast, he remembered. It was strange, 6 had always been friendly towards him, or more often too buried in his own world to notice him to any extent. The day 6 had died 5 felt a strange wrenching, empty feeling, more than just the pain and fear of loss. It felt…wrong, somehow. Like a dream when he saw his friends alive, though he knew they shouldn't be.

5 was jolted from his thoughts when he heard footsteps, causing him to yelp and turn abruptly.

"Whoa there 5! We're back."

5 smiled in relief, relaxing. "9! How was your outing?"

9 smiled in return, setting down a pack of supplies and beginning to rifle through it, giving various supplies to 5 who looked over it happily. "Wow, I guess it _was_ good!"

"It would have been better with you." 9 said softly, sitting beside 5 to help him shuffle through the supplies.

5 sighed, smile fading slightly. "Yeah, well…"

9 smiled again as he stood, leaving 5 with his pick of the loot. "Next time, right?"

5 didn't turn. "Yeah…next time." His smile was gone. 9 didn't notice.


	2. The Reason For Fences

"Hey guys! I'm all finished!"

5 smiled genuinely at the cheers as 9, 7, 3 and 4 all quickly climbed the ladder he had built to the new watch-tower. They smiled joyously as they investigated his new creation, the twins quickly cataloguing it, rushing to the edge where they took hold of the nails and leaned over. 7 rushed over to make sure they wouldn't fall and 9 looked on in concern. "Maybe you could make the barrier a little..."

5 nodded dismissively. "Oh sure. I understand." He shuffled through some supplies, pulling out a roll of twine. "I could just weave this through there, like a railing…" As 5 began to be absorbed in his ideas, 9 smiled and patted him on the back. "This's great 5. Good job."

5 shrugged. "It's nothing."

As 9, 7, 3 and 4 all headed towards the ladder, 5 stood to follow. He stopped however, when 7 turned, with a smile and wave. "See you later, 5."

5 forced a smile and nodded. He quickly turned back to his work when his face threatened to betray him. The others didn't notice. Not that he should expect them to.

[5]

The sun was setting on the two story house that 5 and his friends occupied. 9 and the others had long ago settled to their quiet activities, and soon they would settle down to rest for the night. 5 had always wondered why his species needed sleep. It seemed like in the same way they did not need nutrients like humans, sleep should be unnecessary. For the most part though, they didn't need it nightly to the extent humans did. He supposed it was simply to rest the mind, rather than the body. He only got nightmares out of it, so often he would skip out on sleep for a project. Tonight however, as he wrapped and knotted strong twine between nail posts to complete the barrier, he was feeling tired. He supposed he might actually try for at least a half-night's sleep. Only after he made it to the end of the railing though. He didn't want the unfinished project hanging over his head through the night. He was about half-way done anyways; it would not take him long.

5 fumbled with the string to get a good knot in around the post he was at, his optics squinted in the darkness. "I need to light the lantern…" He whispered absently, standing and turning to look for it. He knew now that he should have lit it sooner, it was getting nearly pitch black out. It must have been later than he thought. It didn't help that it was an old moon, only a sliver in the ebony sky.

"I could've sworn it was here somewhere…" Just as he voiced this, he felt something under his foot. He fumbled to keep from putting his full weight on that foot and crushing what was no doubt his tiny lantern 9 had made, and jumped backwards to try to recover himself. What he didn't realize is just how close he was to the edge, that is, until his heels met thin air. 5 leaned forward on instinct, waving his arms wildly, but his right foot slipped off the edge leaving him grappling awkwardly for a grip on a nail post before all of his weight began to pull him backwards. _"How ironic..." _5 thought as he held on for dear life to the post. _"Just as I am trying to make a barrier, I get to experience the _reason_ for a barrier."_

5 took a deep breath, trying to relax, and on impulse tried to readjust his grip before trying to pull himself up. His right hand was crowded at the bottom of the post, without enough room for a full grip. He yanked it free, intending to place it above his left, but his left hand without his right bracing it jerked down to the empty space, and he lost grip with both hands. He didn't even have time to think about how stupid that had been when he hit the ground.


	3. Pain

[4]

It would be morning soon. 4 saw the sign of it when he woke in pitch black, unable to see and inch in front of his face. It was only ever this dark just before dawn. He knew that 7 would soon be up, followed by 9. 4 would rouse 3 only when he heard something from them, as was the tradition. They'd all get up and go explore once more, searching for this or that and hopefully finding some sort of plant life that they might transplant into the garden they were building to the side of the house, which 5's new watchtower overlooked.

3 had been worried about 5 for a while now. She had confessed this to her brother some time ago, once when 5 refused to accompany them out. 4 for the most part shared this concern. 5 just could not seem to relax or take any time off his work. They used to always be sure to ask him along on their trips, but one day, neither 9 nor 7 took the initiative. Both the twins wished 5 would come, as did 9 and 7, but in the end it was his choice. As light and sound finally began to filter through the home 4 woke his sister with a smile. Maybe next time he would once again ask 5...and maybe for once he would come.

[5]

Pain. Another thing 5 didn't understand. He had once gotten the chance to look at some blueprints of stitchpunk anatomy, and he didn't believe there was any reason for a stitchpunk to feel pain. Although stitchpunks were fine pieces of machinery with technology that seemed far beyond their time, they didn't have nerve endings. How did they feel? How come he could replace pieces of his own metal skeleton one day without pain, and then get a painful rip in his fabric the next? He had once read a book about human medicine. There was a section about dismembered limbs, and something called phantom pains. A human could lose a limb and have fully healed, and yet they'd feel pain like nobody's business. It was a neurological reaction to something that one figured should pain them greatly. Or maybe the scientist had programed that reaction into them to prevent them from disfiguring themselves.

As 5 lay curled up on the ground, clutching his leg to himself, he wished with all his heart he could make himself believe it didn't hurt. But it did hurt. So, so bad.

The moment he had hit the ground he had felt his leg bend and snap out of place at the joint. Whether it was a break or simply needed to be put back together was beyond him for the moment, as he felt like screaming until his voice gave out.

There was no point in yelling for help anyways, he knew. The others must have already headed out by now. They didn't typically greet him in the morning, so he only ever saw them when they got back late in the evening. That made an entire day waiting here, trying to forget that his leg existed.

It wasn't working. He wasn't working. He couldn't think straight.

Where's my toolbox?

There, his first intelligent thought. Find his toolbox. Really, it was more of a toolbag. His toolbox was a real chore to move, being more than twice his size of course. He kept that at the base of the ladder so it was as close as he could get it to where he would be going. He wished he had a workroom like before…but now the whole house was his workplace. He didn't really need to lock himself away here.

His toolbag held his most important tools, such as the stone he used as a hammer, some nails, some pencil leads and a ruler that was snapped down to only four inches. It also had the tools needed to repair an injury.

But his spirits dropped like lead as he remembered that the toolbag was back in the watch tower, where he'd fallen from. There was no way he'd make it there with his leg in the shape that it was.

5 laid his forehead against his knee gently, optics shut, one hand holding his ankle and the other resting on the side of his knee. Perhaps, he thought, I could repair it just enough to get inside and to the tower. I would be fine by the time the others got back.

He composed himself and leaned forward, unscrewing a small bolt that held up the metal cylinder around his ankle, sliding both pieces down to expose the edge of the fabric of his leg. He untied the string holding it together and folded the fabric up over his knee, exposing the mechanics.

He saw instantly what was causing him so much pain. A supporting rod had snapped, piercing the rubber covering of a wire and ripping it away revealing the copper wire. The wire would be a simple enough fix, a piece of electrical tape to protect the inner wiring and he'd be set. 5 pulled the wire away from the rod, wrapping it around another more stable part of the structure, out of the way, allowing him to focus on the snapped rod. He stared at it with mounting worry. It didn't look as promising as the wire. He could tell that not just any piece would fit into the slots the rod occupied; it was just the right length and size for the job.

The supporting rod was a vital piece to the mechanics of the leg, though to an unlearned eye you might not think it. It was part of the mechanics that supported his weight when his knee bent, almost like a muscle. Without it, what would normally be an easy walking step could become a hazard without the mechanics absorbing the impact and easing his knees into a bend.

5 traced his fingers along what attached the rod to the rest of the leg, finding a bolt that was not on too tight to un-screw without tools. He detached the entire support, pulling it out and tucking it away behind his buttons, relaxing as the pain numbed considerably. With that done he tucked back down the fabric of his leg and flexed experimentally. It still hurt, and it felt strange without the support rod, but hopefully it would support him enough to get inside.

He pulled his good leg under himself, slowly standing and placing his other foot on the ground. He took the first cautious step, and had to brace his arm against his leg to help support it. For the first time that morning, he looked around. Fear started to creep into his mind as he looked at the surrounding area, knowing that any shadow could hold a monster, a glint of light could be a reflection off a metal frame of a beast.

But the beasts were gone, 5 reminded himself. He and the other stitchpunks were all that was left alive, except for the odd bug here and there, perfectly harmless. He was being irrational. The only danger was his own clumsiness, he thought with a grim smile. Still, he stuck to the shadow up near the wall and glanced around as he limped toward the front of the house. He slowly looked around the corner before walking over. Thank the creator that there wasn't a high porch on this house. He grabbed the railing and it was one short step up to the porch.

They kept the door open a crack at all times with a wooden wedge 5 had shoved under the crack. It was too heavy to keep opening and closing over and over, not to mention what an inconvenience it'd be if it locked. It only took a moment and he was inside, gasping as if he had just emerged from water. He longed to shut the door, but knew that when the others got back they would need the door open.

Now all he needed was to get his toolbag…5 stared for a full minute at the ladder of nails leading up to the tower, and then threw his arms in the air with an angry sigh. "Really? Up there, all the way…Ugh!" He shook his head and leaned against the wall beside the door. "There's no way! I'll never get up there, it just won't happen. And I'm talking to myself…" his anger faded along with his voice, until he only muttered his frustrations.

Maybe he could get up even with the injury? It wasn't so bad to walk. He could make it.

He lost some of this confidence with each painful step towards the ladder, but when he finally came to the foot of it he grabbed hold and pulled himself up the first makeshift rung.


	4. No Need to Worry

[9]

9 looked back at 3 and 4 who trailed behind him and 7, their eyes flashing as they conversed with one-another. 7 swore she could understand what they said, and it was quite simple really, but he wasn't sure he believed her. He could tell just by how they held themselves however that they were unhappy, perhaps worried. The same could be said for him, however.

"9?"

He looked back at 7, realizing that he had also slowed down, leaving only her at the front. He quickened his steps to regain his position beside her. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

7 grinned. "Worrying, more like."

They shared a laugh, but 9 sighed afterwards, and 7 took his hand. "What is it?"

He shrugged, but as she lead him to a spot he sat with her. They set in silence for a while, the twins noticing and simply resting themselves a small distance away and talking themselves.

9 finally spoke, "When was the last time 5 came out with us?"

7 glanced at him surprised. "Wh…?"

"Just…answer the question." 9 requested quietly.

7 stared at the ground, thinking.

After a couple minutes 9 sighed. "He hasn't come out with us since we got here, 7. Not once."

7 shook her head. "He's been working…" She answered lamely.

9 turned to look at her. "7, he hasn't been himself at all, and we haven't even noticed until now! When was the last time you even had a conversation with him? All he does is work. It wasn't that way before."

7 shook her head again, and met his gaze. "He's probably fine 9; you're just worrying too much. Why don't we wait up for him again tomorrow, ask him to come with us. If he won't come, then you can start worrying."

9 nodded agreeably, though he was slightly frustrated at her dismissive attitude. She could be right, however. They had a peaceful life now, why shouldn't 5 be okay?

Either way, he missed spending time with 5. Perhaps they could turn back for the day, take a break from exploration. They didn't have to go out every day after all. He looked over at where 3 and 4 sat, not looking around like usual. They wouldn't mind, he figured. "7, why don't we go back for the day? The twins don't seem to be enjoying themselves very much today, no point in wasting our energy…"

He could tell that 7 saw right through him, but never-the-less, she nodded and he was satisfied. "3, 4, lets head back in, spend a day inside."

They both looked up brightly, nodding their agreement, and walked beside 7 and 9 the whole way back. We were all quiet. When they got back to the house, it was quiet as well. It was mid-day. He figured that 5 would have been working now, but perhaps he had decided to take a break now that he had finished such a big project just yesterday.

Of course he wouldn't be surprised if he had already found a new project to occupy himself. "5? We're back!"

There was no response. 9 started up the ladder; the first place he could imagine him being at was the tower. Sure enough, 5 was sitting hunched over something. He reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "5?"

5 jumped, his hands flying up and dropping a wrench on his leg. "OW!"

9 jumped back in surprise, before reaching to help 5 onto his feet. "Are you okay?"

5 recovered his breath and rubbed his leg gingerly. "You shouldn't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry.." 9 mumbled sheepishly. Then he noticed that the burlap on his friend's leg was loose. "5, did something happen to your leg?"

5 followed 9's gaze to his leg and sat again, quickly refastening it. "Oh, no, it's nothing. Well aside from dropping the wrench on it." He stood again looked at his feet awkwardly. "Uhm, well what are you back so early for?"

9 shrugged. "We had enough for the day. It was getting boring."

5 raised one brow, looking at 9 again. "Oh really? What about the twins?"

"Well, I think they were worried about you." 9 said slowly.

5 Looked surprised, and stood up straight. "Worried? Why should they be worried? There's nothing wrong."

He seemed defensive to 9, and he backed off immediately. "Of course not. I...I don't know. They don't see you much anymore."

"Well…well I have work to do!" 5 said, gesturing to his supplies on the floor. "I can't be expected to do everything."

The harshness in his voice caught 9 off guard. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. "Okay…I guess I'll just leave you to that then."

As 9 left the room he didn't notice 5 take a step after him, wishing to apologize, before changing his mind and watching him leave.

[7]

7 looked up as 9 entered the room, looking disappointed. "Is he coming?"

9 shrugged, and sat with a sigh. "I didn't ask him."

"What? Why not?"

9 shook his head. "He said he was just busy. You were probably right, he has work to do."

7 hesitated, and after some thought she stood. "I'll talk to him." As she started up the ladder 9 followed for a few steps.

"I thought you weren't worried about it."

She looked back at 9. "I said that we would ask him." Without another word she climbed to the top.

7 regretted the impression she had given 9 earlier that day. She was ashamed that she hadn't noticed the problem, so she had defensively said it was no big deal. Now that she thought of it, 5 had seemed off for a while, but she hadn't noticed, or even paid any attention to him aside from when he finished a project he had to show to them.

5 was looking through his tool bag when she approached, and he looked up as she walked within his view. "Oh, 7. Did you need something?"

7 shook her head. "How about you? Missing something?" She gestured to the supplies on the floor around him, and he looked slightly embarrassed, quickly pulling the stuff in closer to him as if to make the pile look smaller.

"Uh, I was just…organizing." He shrugged and started putting things back.

7 let out a brief laugh. "5, you're already more organized than me. You don't need to clean up for me."

5 copied her laugh, still not quite relaxed. "Yeah…well actually, I was wondering if I could ask you and the others to watch for something next time you go out. Nothing too complicated, just a metal rod of sorts, maybe an inch and a quarter long…"

7 backed up in mock horror. "Whoa there 5! You don't expect me to remember that do you?"

5 looked rather put off, but shook his head. "No, it's fine. I can figure something else out."

"Or here's an idea; why don't you come with us tomorrow?" 5 went silent, and 7 took that as an invitation to continue. "You'd know best what you're looking for. I'd probably bring you something made of aluminum."

He didn't respond. 7 got a sly smirk on her face as an idea hit her. "You know, unless you're just scared."

5's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "I'm not scared, why would I be scared? I guess I could come I mean, I was going to do some things here but if you need me too I suppose it shouldn't be a problem…"

7 smiled widely. "Great! It's settled then. Be ready by daylight tomorrow." She walked to the ladder and started down, but before losing view of him she said to 5, "Are you coming?"

Guilt rushed through 7 once more when she saw the surprise in his eye at the question, but she pushed it down as he smiled and nodded, going to retrieve his tool bag first which he strapped over his shoulder. They both came downstairs where the others were excited to hear the news.

7 noticed how 5 seemed to walk with overly cautious steps, but she didn't ask him why. She'd gotten enough from him for the day.


End file.
